ChapterHouse

From the Journal of James Watie: Wherein We Help Decorate A Train

9

AUG/66

August 9th: After a stormy night at sea (Aldo was NOT amused!), we stopped in Calais to move freight and passengers back-and-forth. Some of the crates we witnessed had a fleur de les pattern on them, which struck me as strange. I noticed two young stowaways sneak aboard with no small amount of flair (probably professional vagabonds). The trip continued to Dover, where we disembarked that afternoon and awaited a coach to the train station. While there, we noticed a well-dressed man with a security case at the station.

While waiting on the train, a gang of extremely well-dressed ruffians approached. After Willy engaged in some polite banter (“Give us the stones.” “No, how about you just come along with us quietly?” “No, we want the stones.” “You are not getting them.” “Well, we will see you soon, then”) they left us to our own devices.

The man with the case (who was watching this whole affair with keen interest), was approached, and said that he was from the CH in Paris (The Brothers of Paris, specifically). His case held 4 more false Stones of Dee and 500 pounds. He claimed that the Oslo CH instructed him to meet us here for the transfer. He seemed genuinely perplexed and aggravated, and left us to verify his mission.

We secured our car as best we could for the upcoming assault, and we were not disappointed. At least the leader of their gang was polite enough to empty the whole car of passengers before the donnybrook began! Also of note, the leader (named Landry, as we later learned) knew what TnT was, but not well enough to discern the false stick I handed him (Note: why was Aldo carrying around a foot of slow-fuse?). He sprinted for the door to absolve himself of this inherited sin, and the battle began in earnest.

In this battle, I was able to see how my new compatriots do in a fight against real people. It is different fighting men than it is monsters; these people likely had at least someone who cared for them. Sergei immediately advanced into the cabin across from us to limit the effectiveness of the man holding a Spencer carbine (excellent weapon, by-the-by), while I held the door of our cabin. Willy blinded three of the attackers quite effectively (God bless that which I do not understand), whereas I announced my presence by cleanly severing an assailant’s head from his remainder. We all managed to handle business effectively, if not ruthlessly, with a stranger joining the fray from the onset on our side. Their leader stumbled from the train, and two of his goons extricated themselves in a similar manner. The man with the carbine was knocked unconscious for later questioning.

The good Samaritan identified himself as “Kit,” and after a bit of awkward banter we learned that he is a member of our own CH who was believed to be dead. He had been lying low for a bit, and did not know Warburton and Uriah were dead. He is an accomplished hand-to-hand combatant, and agreed to head back to the Munster House with us.

The knocked-out goon awakens before we hit the station, and is more than willing to speak to us in exchange for his life. His boss is Landry, who runs a professional brute squad. At the moment they are in the employ of a shadowy figure named “Herr Bechner” (The Professor in German). This Bechner has 4 sets of stones already, but the goon had no idea to what purpose. Landry and his men were not involved in the museum heist; they are gentlemen brutes. As a group, we decided to let him live, after I mentioned to him that doing so was against my basic nature and if I ever saw him again I would have to kill him on principle.

We arrived home safe-and-sound. Kit was very well-received, as he was raised in this house and well-loved by its members. Prof. Poole swore us in as full brothers in light of our actions, and we went to the museum to drop off the stones.

Aug 10: Now we wait. I feel that we are putting ourselves on the tracks of this train, but I will do what I must to avenge so many needless deaths in the name of such unholy power.